


(I Love It) When A Plan Comes Together

by gingeraleandchocolatecake



Series: anything you can do, i can do better [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thieves, Don't worry, F/M, Faked Deaths, bellamy's getting shot, clarke's a badass, criminals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:38:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingeraleandchocolatecake/pseuds/gingeraleandchocolatecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Shit. Are we dead?”</p><p>“Drowned, I think. You’ll have to ask Monty, he faked the dental records. It was all very John Stonehouse.”</p><p>(editing in progress as of Nov 2017)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i know i just updated my other one yesterday, but guys i'm just so keen.

**HOTEL PAN DEI PALAIS – ST TROPEZ, FRANCE – NOW.**

 

“You know, I could get used to living in a place like this.” Bellamy stated, leaning back into the obscenely expensive leather sofa with a bagel is his hand, and dressed simply in a dressing gown.

Clarke rolled her eyes from where she stood with her back leaning against the table and her arms crossed. She shook her head, “Well don’t. Because we’re running out of fake credit cards.” She huffed, looking out of the window.

It’s true. They could easily get used to living in a place like this.

 _This_ being the penthouse suite of an unspeakably overpriced hotel in St Tropez, The south of France where the main attraction was the view of the ocean from the side of the cliff and then the view of the town. Clarke was never a summer person, but when Bellamy's with her she can pretty much be anything.

“Don’t be such a downer princess. Have a bagel, its complementary. (1)” He smirked, taking a bite and throwing his feet onto the coffee table as he reached for the remote and turned the TV on.

Clarke huffed again, glancing at her watch for the sixth time. She sighed, running her hand through her hair. “You sure we can trust this guy?” she asked, pacing over to him..

Bellamy scoffed, taking another bite of his bagel, “Of course not. He’s a criminal.”

“ _You’re_ a criminal.” She pointed out, sitting down beside him, perched on the edge of the couch.

Bellamy waved his hand, “ _I_ have a code.” He remarked. Clarke rolled her eyes again and Bellamy sighed, “Look, you want out, right?” she nodded and he titled his head from left to right in a rapid movement, “Then you’re going to have to have to trust him.”

Clarke crinkled her nose, not liking she idea to trust an outsider but feeling well out of options. “Do _you_ think he’ll come through?” she asked and Bellamy nodded.

“Oh yeah. He owes me. I saved his ass in Mexico.” he reassured, surfing the channels and taking another bite of his bagel.

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “You mean the time when you called me up so I could bust you out of prison?” she asked and Bellamy smirked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that.” He flashed a cheeky grin in her direction, “Thanks for that by the way.”

She closed her eyes to stop herself from rolling them and shruged, “I owed you anyway.”

Bellamy frowned, “Oh yeah. From what?” he asked.

Clarke coughed and lifted her shirt slightly to revel the pink scar that ran across her hip, “Philippines” she grimaced. Bellamy slowly reached over to run his thumb over the bump and two things happened, one she flinched because his fingers were so cold and he laughed and two, she shivered, something she attributed only to the cold.

“ _Right._ I remember. Your boat ran out of petrol in the middle of the pacific ocean.” He said with a slight mocking to his tone.

She narrowed her eyes, “I was _stabbed,_ it wasn’t the _middle and_ I was only going to Australia”

he tutted “Should have checked the gas tank Princess.”

There was a knock on the door and their necks snapped around to look at it. Clarke glanced at her watch as she stood up, “Bang on time” she muttered, walking up the two steps and down the corridor towards it. Bellamy heard the door open and then shut. There was a pause as Clarke walked back into the main room with a small package in her hand. She ripped it open, pulling out a pile of passports and social security cards all tied together with an elastic band and letting the brown packaging drop to the floor.

He turned the TV down and through a mouthful of bagel he asked; “Is it all there?”

Clarke shrugged and wondered over to the kitchen counter. She laid them out and opened each one of them. Bellamy stood up as she began to open them, “They’re all here” she stated as he came up beside her.

He picked one up and flipped to a page and then smiled, “Murphy’s not going to be happy about _that_.”

Clarke smirked, ignoring the way the light streaming from the window reflected off his eyes, “Oh yeah? Look at the picture they used for Octavia” she held out the passport for him and he laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

“She’s going to be _so_ pissed off.” He shook his head, taking it from her hand and replacing it onto the table next to her social security cards.

The door burst open and just like she’d been summoned, Octavia wondered in. She had a magazine in one hand and her phone in the other. She glanced up at them and frowned, blowing her hair away from her face, “Why are you in a dressing gown?” she jerked her chin in her brother's direction, throwing the magazine onto the dining table and pulling out a chair. She dropped onto it, throwing her feet onto the table like she was at home.

He shrugged, taking another bite of his bagel, “its roomy” he stated.

Clarke smacked her forehead with her hand, “Would you stop eating, _we’re working!”_ she cried, snatching the bagel from his hand.

“We’re always working” Bellamy pointed out and before she could roll her eyes for about the hundredth time Octavia interrupted.

“Are those the passports?” she asked and Clarke nodded.

“All we need is Raven to come through on those boats and we’re good to go.” She added.

“Of course _you_ would pick boats” He muttered under his breath and she swatted him on the arm.

She turned to look out of the window with her arms crossed, “I can’t believe this is _actually_ happening.” She muttered, taking a deep breath.

Bellamy threw an arm around her shoulder, “Come on princess. Think of Brazil.” He sighed wistfully.

Clarke frowned, turning to look at him. His body was pressed against hers and his lips were inches from hers. “Who says I’m going to Brazil?” she asked, cocking her head.

Octavia’s phone rang, the tone echoing through the room and when she picked up there was an unmissable flood of Russian from her mouth- something about a plane?

Bellamy reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a printout sheet of information about Rio de Janeiro, “I found it in between the sofa cushions (2)” he remarked.

Clarke took the paper from him, “It’s called a contingency plan Bellamy. I’ve got more than _one_ plane ticket to a number of different places.” She stepped away from him, removing his arm. Bellamy frowned when she shook her head, “If I’m out, then I want to be out for good. A country with no extradition with some sun preferably.” She added, He snatched the paper back, tucking it onto his pocket.

He leaned against the kitchen counter while Clarke leaned against the island opposite him “Where do you plan on going then?” he asked.

Clarke shrugged, “I don’t know.”

He stepped forward, towering purposefully over her with his hands on either side of her waist, balancing against the island. Her arms tightened around her and she stared back at him defiantly. “If you don’t know by the end of this job, you could always come with me.” He offered quietly.

She smiled softly, “We all need to go our separate ways after this job. Staying together’s too risky.”

Bellamy cocked his head, “Then I’ll look for you.”

She tittered, leaning forward with a hand around his bicep, “Good luck with that”

He opened his mouth to reply but the door slammed loudly. Bellamy stepped away from her as the talking- no, _arguing_ got louder.

“I swear to God, if you expect me to be sympathetic you’ve got another thing coming. (3)” Raven snarled as she came into view.

Murphy followed behind her with his hand clutching his nose. He had cuts across his face and blood dripping between his fingers. “I got beat up for you!” he cried adamantly.

Bellamy shrugged, “You probably deserved it.”

“Why are you in a dressing gown?” Murphy asked and Bellamy grunted, waving him off.

Raven scoffed, dropping down it what _was_ Octavia’s seat. “You got beat up for the _job”_ she corrected.

Murphy whirled around to look at Bellamy with a pointed finger, “A job that better make me rich beyond belief.” He demanded and Bellamy held up his hands and pointed to Clarke.

“She’s in charge on this one” he defended.

Clarke picked up Murphy’s passport and threw it to him. He missed the catch and it hit him full in the face. Bellamy bit his lip to stop laughing and Clarke threw Raven hers. Raven caught it with one had. “It’ll make us _so_ rich that you’ll have cash coming out of your ass.” Clarke assured.

Bellamy jerked his chin in Raven’s direction, “You got the boats?” he asked.

Raven had a look of mock hurt and held her hand to her heart, “It hurts that you’d ever doubt me.”

Murphy waved his hand, “ _Hello._ I’m the one who got punched for those fucking boats!”

This time Clarke shrugged, “You probably had it coming” Murphy opened his mouth to protest but Raven picked up his passport and threw it at his face again, enticing a loud cry of pain as it hit his nose.

The door slammed again and Monty’s voice bellowed, “ _I got it!”_ Monty came into view with a silver suitcase and threw it onto the kitchen counter “I had to bribe the guy at the morgue with Jasper for that.” He emphasised.

she frowned, "What do you mean  _with_ jasper?" she asks suspiciously.

But he just pushed the suitcase closer to her, "All yours."

Clarke pulled it closer to her and threw it open. Bellamy came up beside her and pulled out one of the blood bags, squeezing it between his fingers. “Do we really need this many?” he whispered, slowly placing it back in.

she shrugged glancing at Bellamy, closing the suitcase, “We need to make it look realistic” she explained, taking it off the counter and placing it on the floor.

the door opened and slammed again, " _Monty i'm going to kill you_." Jasper bellowed at the top of his voice in a tune.

Monty snickered, "It worked didn't it. you got your bodies." he reminded.

Jasper shoved him roughly into the table, "the mortician nearly ended up as one of them."

Octavia returned from her phone call, “The equipment’s in the truck.” She explained and Clarke nodded, "and we have the planes."

“Are you fucking serious?” Murphy yelled from the other side of the room with the passport in his hand. Bellamy look at him and then turned around, if he kept watching he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“What?” Raven asked.

He held out his passport, “ _that_ is my  _name?"_

there were cries of  _let me see_ and  _oh my god what is it_ which was then quickly followed by bellowing laughter and cries from the rest of the team. Clarke closed her eyes and laughed into her hand while Bellamy nudged her with his Elbow, trying to contain his. Raven grinned and shook her head while Octavia simply sighed.

The door slammed again and Lincoln walked down the corridor with a gym bag over his shoulder, “Jaha’s booked a car to take him into town. It leaves in ten minutes.” He informed.

The air in the room immediately tensed, people glancing around the room to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything and Clarke nodded, “We’ve got _ten minutes_. Double and triple check we’ve got everything.” She bent down and picked up the suitcase, handing it to jasper. Her smile faltered briefly as she realised the weight of what they were about to do. Bellamy slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly as he came up next to her.

He stepped around her, pressing a quick kiss on her temple, “Don’t die on me princess.” He muttered, reaching for his gun and checking the bullets.

She rolled her eyes, “It’s a bit early for our ritual goodbyes” He smiled and tucked the gun back into his jeans. She clapped her hands, stepping into the center of the room, grinning broadly and let out a strained breath, “Let’s go rob a bank.”

“You mean steal a diamond?” Bellamy remarked.

She waved her hand, “Sure, that too.”

 _(1._ _She checked, they’re not)_

 _ _(_ 2.    _ _He hadn’t really. He’d gone looking through her things to see if he could find out where she was going. But she already knew that, she was the thief after all.)_

 _(3._ _Raven’s never sympathetic)_

 

* * *

 

“So we steal this diamond. Run away on those fake passports, _sell_ the diamond and all live happily ever after in a non extradition country. You think it’ll be that simple?” Murphy asked from the back of the van.

Clarke, from the driver’s seat turned to look at Bellamy through rolled eyes as if to say _‘He’s an idiot’_ , “ _Yes._ I think it’ll be _that_ simple.”

Murphy tapped the label on one of the tanks in the back of the dark vehicle. He knew that if he weren't the only person able to operate hazardous material that they’d get rid of him.

_(Not that Jasper and Raven couldn’t do it, but simply that they were a bit...unpredictable)_

“So what are your Passport names?” He asked, leaning against the cold metal wall.

Bellamy flipped his open from his seat next to Clarke and handed it back to Murphy, “Alex Jones.” He pointed out and Murphy nodded. He handed it back and tapped Clarke and the shoulder.

“And yours?” He asked. Clarke was driving and so couldn’t get it out for him but she pointed to the glove box.

“Claire Smith.” She stated.

Murphy huffed, “Typical for me to get stuck with the fucking _stupid_ name.” He muttered.

 _“Get over it Murphy”_ Raven growled through the earpiece, "Or should I say-"

"Don't you do it, don't you dare." Murphy restrained from calling her a name that would have Clarke and Bellamy both punching him in the face.

Clarke dodged and swerved around the cars of St Tropez. "They drive like fucking maniacs here.” she muttered angrily at the amount of times she's nearly crashed into another care.

Bellamy smirked, “Kind of like you (4)”

“ _Bad move.”_ Octavia muttered.

Clarke huffed, slowing to a halt on the opposite side of the road to the bank. The bank they were going to rob. _Sorry, diamond._ “You’re funny Bellamy. Maybe I should stick a bullet up your ass and remind you how many times my road rage has saved your life. (5)”

Octavia sighed, “ _Told you”_

Bellamy held up his hands, “Fair enough.” He replied.

“ _Are you fucking serious!”_ Octavia suddenly cried.

“What?” Murphy replied and Bellamy mouthed to Clarke, _‘She found it’_

_“That’s the picture you decide to use for my passport?”_

neither of them made any move to say anything, only bit their tongues to stop their laughter and looked at each other like they were sharing an inside joke. Clarke moved forward to look out of the window with narrowed eyes. “Is it necessary to rob this place in broad daylight?” Murphy questioned.

 _“I suggested blowing it up from underneath but Clarke said that it wasn’t ‘subtle’ enough_ (6) _”_ Jasper mocked.

Clarke scoffed, "There's a reason I’m the brains and not you.”

“I thought you were the _thief_?” Murphy frowned.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out Murphy’s wallet, “A girl can have _many_ talents.” Murphy huffed angrily and snatched it from her fingers, shoving it into his pockets.

 _“Clarke. Your nine o’clock”_ Raven suddenly interrupted.  _“He’s leaving.”_

“Stick to the plan.” Bellamy stated, He placed his hand on Clarke's shoulder and smiled softly, “Kill it.” Clarke ran her fingers through her hair and Bellamy handed her some sunglasses. She opened the door and slammed it shut.

Raven laughed manically, _“Let’s go steal a diamond.”_

Clarke rolled her eyes, “You mean 20 Million?” she raised an eyebrow.

The other woman scoffed, “You need to get your priorities straight.”

 _(4._ _She’s an excellent driver. She’s escaped the police countless amounts of times. Not that Bellamy cares, because every time, he’s ended up with a concussion- through his own fault!)_

 _(5._ _Six times, to be exact. Not that she keeps count)_

 _(6._ _Jasper’s never subtle, and most of them have learnt that the hard way)_

 

* * *

 

 _“Raven, is he still distracted?”_ Clarke asked as she caught a roll of hundred’s from Bellamy and placed it into the gym bag.

_“Yeah. Jasper should play half dead more often, he's very realistic."_

Clarke scoffed and shook her head as Bellamy threw her another roll of hundred dollar bills and she shoved it into the bag. “Last one.” He called.

She glanced at the door and nodded. “We’ve got about three minutes” Murphy informed her as he began to walk across the room, counting his steps. He suddenly stopped and leant down, marking an X on the ground with a black marker. “X marks the spot.” he nodded smugly.

Bellamy shook the can of whatever it was that jasper had created before he sprayed it in a circle around the X. All three of them stood around it, watching, waiting for something, anything. ten seconds passed and they all looked at each other with the same facial expression of  _'is it broken?'_. Clarke carefully tapped her ear piece and narrowed her eyes.

“Uh... isn’t something supposed to happen?” she asked.

 _“Give it a second.”_ Jasper mumbled in reply.

A sudden sulphuric smell erupted in the room and they all groaned, throwing their hands over their mouths as the foam did its work. Rotting through the metal and eroding it. Clarke winced as the circle dropped loudly into the tunnel beneath it.

Bellamy clapped his hands, “Ear buds” He called, pulling out his own as Clarke picked up the bag and dropped it through the hole.

She handed him hers and so did Murphy. She looked down at the dark gap and before she could step into it, Bellamy caught her wrist. She paused, looking up at his earnest eyes. “Is it too early, now?” he asked carefully. She shook her head, not trusting her voice. He stepped forward until they were toe to toe “Don’t get dead.” He stated roughly.

She grinned up at him, “Don’t get shot.” She pecked him on the cheek and Murphy rolled his eyes “See you on the other side” she smiled at him and before he could say anything else, she dropped through the hole and vanished.

He turned to Murphy, “You ready?” he asked.

Murphy nodded, “Everything’s packed.” He added.

Bellamy shook his head, “I meant for this.” And just like that, Bellamy launched a punch at Murphy’s face and knocked him out cold (7). Murphy dropped to the ground and Bellamy tutted, “That’s for working with the feds. Asshole.”

 _(7._ _He’s not going to lie, that felt really good)_

 

* * *

 

Clarke reached the end of the road and looked ahead at the long row of ships as the sun continued to beat down on her. The marina was big, and she’d never realised just how much. _“Shit.”_ She muttered, wiping the sweat from her upper lip. She shoved her emergency earpiece into her ear, “Monty? Monty. Can you hear me?”

 _“Loud and clear Clarke. What’s up?”_ he asked.

She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees and sucking in a deep breath. “A police car on my ass and a helicopter coming over head and i have no idea where the boat is." she said, panting heavily.

_“I’ve got your location. One mile to your right”_

“One mile!” she cried, gasping for breath, “I can’t run that far, I can’t- I just ran _three_ (8). And I’ve got about 20 million in hundred dollar bills.”

 _“Its fine, Lincoln’s five seconds out, he’ll pick you”_ Monty reassured.

The line buzzed and scrambled and suddenly Octavia’s voice boomed though Clarke’s ear. “ _Where the hell is my brother Clarke?”_ she cried.

The blond's breathing stopped short and she suddenly stood higher, “You mean he’s not on his boat?” she asked carefully.

_“No! I just went to check and none of them are there!”_

Clarke frowned as Lincoln pulled up in front of her, she clambered in, fully aware of the sirens still going in the background. “It doesn't make any sense, we planned it down to a tee- he  _has_ to be there."

Please let him be Okay.

 _“Goddamn it Clarke, This is your fault! I should never have let him do this job- he was retired!”_ She cried and Clarke felt a pang of guilt that was quickly replaced with irritation.

“He agreed to it O.” She strained through grit teeth and Lincoln sent her a sympathetic look.

 _“And why do you think that is?”_ She cried.

The car slowed to a halt and Clarke could clearly see Octavia standing on the deck. It was a small, quick motor boat that was built specifically for speed. Clarke slammed the car door behind her and she began to walk up the ramp onto it, something Octavia did not miss, and ran over to her.

she dropped the bag onto the floor and slammed her hand down on the table, “What the _hell_ is _that_ supposed to mean? (9)” she hissed to the brunette.

Octavia threw her hands up in the air, “He’d do _anything_ for you. He’d _die_ for you, but you never seem to realise.” She added.

Clarke sighed and dropped down on the boat’s sofa. She ran her hand through her hair. “He’s fine.” she assured, “We’ll meet up like we planned, and he’ll be fine.” but her voice wavers.

“You don’t know that” Octavia shook her head.

Lincoln came into sight, “Clarke we gotta go if we’re going to stick to the plan.”

Clarke looked torn. Torn between sticking to the plan, her plan, _their plan._ Or waiting until she knew Bellamy was safe. she knows what she should do, unfortunately, it's what she'd expect him to do as well. “He'll stick to the plan.” she states, and this time, her voice doesn't waver, "We can go."

“What?” Octavia roared, moving forward with her finger pointed angrily at Clarke. “He could be in trouble, he could need our help- we can't just-"

the blond batted her hand away and stood up, "Control your emotions O." she demanded angrily and then sighed, waving her hand in the air, “Drive. We need to get to Rome by tomorrow.”

Lincoln pressed his earpiece, “Monty? We’re coming your way.”

 _(8._ _She really needs to start going to the gym)_

 _(9._ _She knows what it means. But she’s a thief; she doesn’t have the lifestyle that’s used to being... loved?)_

 _(10._ _She told him that some day she wouldn’t be able to reach him. It was his own fault for getting caught with the painting at the airport – after that, he learnt to use private flights)_

 

* * *

 

**THE PACIFIC OCEAN –OFF THE COAST OF THE PHILIPPINES. - 2 YEARS AGO.**

 

Clarke groaned, hissing loudly as she accidentally nudged the knife lodged in her hip. The sun was merciless and Clarke wouldn't stop sweating- although she didn't know whether to attribute that to the shock or the heat. She’d already pulled off her shirt, leaving her only in a bikini top and she was wearing a pair on denim shorts.

( _She didn’t expect to be stranded in the middle of the_ pacific _and so clothing was not picked according to the fact that she was going to get fucking_ stabbed.)

She was breathing heavily but luckily she had enough medical knowledge to know that pulling the knife _out_ was a _big_ no-no. She couldn’t see any surrounding islands, which an achievement considering this meant she was far enough away from the Philippines for her to be safe.

That is, if the stab wound didn’t kill her.

Clarke grabbed the phone on the boat. The sea around her was turquoise blue and it was glistening like tiny diamonds against the sun. There was nothing. She was well and truly lost. She hit redial and held the phone to her ear and she fell back against the seat, the phone wire was wrapped around her ankle but it hurt too much to bend down and untangle it.

“ _Hello?”_

“Bellamy” she panted, “Where the hell is that rescue?” she breathed heavily.

He clicked his tongue, “ _You know there’s only so much I can do from half way around the world?”_ he explained carefully.

Clarke frowned, glancing around at the empty ocean, “Where are you?”

He sighed, “Uh... Turkey” He said quietly.

She clicked her tongue, using her other hand to shield her face from the sun, “You’re stealing my gig.” She stated disbelievingly, “ _I_ told you about turkey.”

Bellamy laughed, “Yeah, well, I need the cash. And you’re probably going to die so – no harm, no foul.”

She growled, “I swear to God, Bellamy, if you let me die I’m gonna-” She cut herself off with an agonizing scream and dropped the phone to the floor. She hissed and promptly cursed _fucking_ Dax for _fucking_ stabbing her.

“ _Princess?"_  he paused, listening the woosh of the ocean int he background, _"_ Clarke _? Are you there?_ Clarke! _”_ she stared down at her stab wound, still panting. She needed to take it out, her wound was infected and she needed to clear it up. _“Clarke!”_

She hissed and reached down for the phone, “ _What?”_ She snapped angrily.

 _“Are you okay?”_ he asked slowly and Clarke hissed again.

She grunted, looking down at her wound, “I’m great. Who knew getting stabbed was this much fun.” She mocked, letting out a breathy laugh. “Oh I’m going to die out here. I don’t even know _why I_ called you.” she muttered.

 _“Maybe it’s because your trust me? (_ 11) _”_ He stated.

Clarke huffed, “That trust is what’s screwing me over right now.” She hissed again.

“ _Help is on the way. I’m not about to let one of the few people I tolerate_ _die.”_ He stated and Clarke grinned.

“I think you like me Mr Blake.” She teased and then gasped at the pain in abdomen. Her skin was clammy and she was sure if he wasn’t on the phone with her, she’d probably go into shock.

“ _Maybe.”_ He replied and Clarke could picture his perfectly white smile, “ _Or maybe I can’t stand the thought of losing a friend.”_

Clarke tilted her head, “So I’m a friend now? (12)” she asked.

The blood was seeping only slowly out of the wound, but she needed to take out the knife. Dax had been all over the place and she didn’t know what kind of harmful chemicals he’d been handling. “ _You’re close.”_

“ _Shit.”_ She hissed, groaning.

“ _What’s wrong?”_  He asked, panicked.

“I gotta take it out.” She muttered through grit teeth. “I gotta take out the knife.”

“ _Are you crazy? I didn’t go to medical school, but even I know that’s a fucking stupid idea.”_ He cried, “ _Hold still. Help is on the way.”_

Clarke shook her head, gritting her teeth, “It’s infected.” She shook her head, “If I don’t take it out and disinfect it, I’m going to be dead before your people get here.”

“ _Clarke, don’t touch that knife.”_ He ordered. She shook her head.

“I gotta take it out. Salt water can be used as disinfectant, right?” She asked and then shook her head again, “Never mind, you’re barely even a first aider. (13)” She muttered.

“ _Hey-”_

“Bellamy” she interrupted gravely, grabbing her shirt and rolling it. “I need you to shut the _fuck_ up for a second while I pull out the knife.” She shoved the shirt into her mouth and bit down on it and then she wrapped her hand around the handle.

“ _Clarke-”_

She cut him off as she dropped the phone onto the floor again, with it only hanging by its cord, and muffled her scream into her shirt. She yanked the knife out as fast as she could and dropped it onto the floor with a clank. Blood was dripping down her fingers and smeared across the floor. She let out a deep breath, panting heavily. She reached over the side of the boat and scooped up a handful of saltwater. She splashed it over her wound and screamed again, the roll of shirt falling out of her mouth.

She reached down for the phone, “Bell?” she gasped.

 _“What happened? Are you okay?”_ He asked worriedly.

Clarke swallowed, rubbing the sweat from her forehead, “Yeah, I’m fine. Bellamy.” She paused, still panting slightly, “I think... I think I might be in shock, so, I’m going to need your rescue team to hurry up because-...” she held her hand to her head and closed her eyes, “Oh god I feel faint.” She murmured as the sunlight pounded down on her eyes.

_“Princess. Stay with me. Help is on the way, you’re going to be fine. Raven’s giving me a ride, I’ll be there soon.”_

She shook her head, slowly drifting out of consciousness, “No don’t do that. Stay in turkey.” Her breathing was heaving and quick “One of us might at least make some cash. It’s really hot Bell. I think I’m just going to shut my eyes for a second and... Mmmm. It’s really... _hot._ ”

“ _Clarke!”_ The phone slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor again, with a loud clatter and this time, she didn’t pick it up.

Later on she heard voices and shouts and she remembered being lifted up and carried onto another boat. She heard a voice yell ‘ _get the doctor’_ and another say _‘call Bellamy’._ But she doesn’t remember much.

She woke up in a bed- one she did not recognise. She shot up and then winced, glancing around the room. She was in a loft of some kind. A skylight above her bed and potted lilies on the chest of drawers next to her. The wall in front of her had no door but simply a wide opening into what seemed to be a make shift dining room. He clothes were folded up on the chest of drawers and it made her feel kind of nice.

She lifted her shirt and glanced down to see her wound completely bandaged up and cleaned and she smiled. _He’d come through._ At some point she’d been changed into a long black shirt that she’s sure came from one of the cupboards here.

This was probably Bellamy’s place. The front door slammed and Clarke’s eyes widened. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and forced herself to stand up. “No, no, no, no, no don’t stand up.” Bellamy exclaimed as he came rushing in to catch her before she could fall.

Her hand flew to her stomach while Bellamy grabbed her under arms and hauled her up, sitting her down on the bed. Clarke let out a strained breath, “You’re late.” She stated.

He flashed her a grin, “Sorry princess. Customs was a nightmare.” Clarke smiled and then hissed, reaching for her stab wound. Bellamy frowned worriedly. “The doc stitched you up; he said you should be alright. He suggested bed rest but I’m not stupid enough to believe you’ll listen.”

Clarke nodded her head, “Quite right.” She agreed, she glanced out of the window on the other side of the room and frowned. “Where are we?” she asked.

Bellamy stood up, “Australia. You’re in my safe house.” He explained. “You’ve been out for a while.” He added.

She stood up and winced and He reached out to help her but she swatted him away. She stumbled through the wall opening, resting her hand against it, and then fell against the dining table, dropping onto one of the chairs. “I gotta get to the US.” She informed, groaning.

He nodded, “Dad’s funeral. I know.”

She huffed, “News travels fast.” She muttered.

Bellamy waved his hand, “When family dies. It’s big news. Everyone knows. (14)”

She grunted, “Then you know I don’t have a lot of time. What’s the date?” she asked and he tilted his head.

“25th April” he stated.

 _“Shit.”_ Clarke swore, reaching for her clothes.

She stood up and started to pull off Bellamy’s shirt but then hissed. Bellamy caught her at the waist, holding her still and she held her breath. “Don’t rip them princess. Take it easy. Let me help.”

Clarke scoffed and rolled her eyes, “This is like the start of a porno.”

Bellamy laughed, his eyes crinkling and Clarke ignored the twist in her gut. “Yeah, the good porno’s.” He joked and Clarke bit her lip to stop from smiling. “Right keep still.” He stated as he reached behind her head and pulled the shirt off in one swift motion.

He kept his eyes on hers, proving to her that he wasn’t a child. There was something earnest in his gaze and the way he looked at her. he reached beside her and grabbed a white shirt, “Left arm” he ordered and she slipped her left arm in first. “Right arm.” And she followed. He stepped away from her and handed her a pair of jeans. “Can you do this yourself?” he asked carefully.

She nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned against the wall. “You didn’t have to come out here.” She stated and he rolled his eyes.

He shrugged, “I finished Turkey early and I had a job down here next. It was purely coincidence.” He explained.

Clarke nodded, “I’d hate to cost you too much.” She added, slipping the jeans on effortlessly. She glanced around and realised that she had no suitcase, no clothes, no phone and no money. She sighed, “I gotta go.”

Bellamy watched her as she stared back at him like she was confused. He held out his hand for her to shake, “To another day” he smiled slightly.

Clarke stared at it his hand and then back at him. _She could._ She sighed accepting his hand and shook it. They didn’t use to be like this. Once upon a time, they could have been. Almost. Maybe. Nearly, "You're a good friend." she mocked.

“Anytime princess” he mumbled, his eyes burning into hers. Clarke stiffened and let go rapidly, looking down at the floor. “You owe me” he added. There was a soft look in his eyes and- _fuck._ This isn’t happening. She’s a _thief._ She shouldn’t be feeling thing... _stuff._

She smiled brightly, turning to walk out of his safe house, “Be sure to collect.”

“Don’t get dead” he called.

She waved her hand without turning around and opened the door, “Don’t get shot.”

Bellamy watched her walk gracefully down his corridor with a grin on his lips. She glanced back at him as she shut the door and he could see the unspoken words in her eyes. _Almost. Maybe. Nearly._ The door shut and he shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts.

 _(11._ _She does. She just won’t admit it)_

 _(12._ _Of course she is. At one point, they were more than friends)_

 _(13._ _He is a first aider, thank you very much, Clarke just likes to be cocky and shove her medical school knowledge in everyone’s faces)_

 _(14._ _And yet, none of them showed up to the funeral. They were all wanted in Virginia)_

 

* * *

 

 _“_ _Only four hours ago, one of the biggest heists ever to occur, took place at la Banque Nationale at St Tropez in the southern region of France. The assailants, who have yet to be identified, are believed to have made off with over 100 million worth of goods. 2 million US$ in cash in believed to have been taken from the safety deposit box of Thelonious Jaha who is believed to be in the country to sell off, if rumours are correct, the biggest blood diamond ever to be found._

_Authorities believe that the diamond was stolen from Mr Jaha’s person. Mr Jaha has denied any possession of such a diamond as rumours continue to circle around the current war his alleged gang has going on with the authorities. Mr Jaha has refused to comment only to say he is ‘outraged’ and will have his ‘best people on the case’._

_One of the robbers was found inside the safe and it is believed that he was working with Interpol to apprehend the assailants._

_The authorities have yet to determine how the culprits pulled off such a drastic heist, but it is believed that they escaped by boat. The coast guard is being commissioned as I speak and we should have more information within the next twelve hours._

_If you have any information regarding the robbery please....”_

 

* * *

 

**SOMEWHERE NEAR SARDEGNA, THE SEA – NOW.**

 

Lincoln's hands were poised on the steering wheel as he directed the boat through waves that exploded and left trickles on Clarke's cheeks. Octavia had her arms wrapped around his waist and her head pressing against his back and she whispered something into his shirt. they both laughed. something punched in Clarke's gut and she adjusted her sunglasses, looking away. Lincoln began to slow the boat down to dock at a floating port that had been created for tourists- but since been abandoned by some rocks.

There was a small electric powered boat tied to it and Monty sitting on the floor with a laptop on his lap and a life jacket on his back. Clarke leant over the railing of the boat to look down at the hacker, "Anything?" she asked hopefully.

He looked up and shook his head, "Not yet."

She swallowed, nodding and turning around with her lower back resting against the railing as Monty clambered onto the boat with great difficulty ( _'i don't have sea legs, okay?_ he cried). the bag on the sofa caught her eye and she sighed,  _twenty million._ Twenty million dollars in cash was enough to plug holes in their debts and fill up their bank accounts- but not her heart. At this point, she'd be celebrating- with him- she'd be jumping around for joy with a huge smile on her face and he would tell her that he knew they could do it.But this time she felt empty. She felt cold and alone and bitter. Bellamy was supposed to be here. They were supposed to rejoice in the biggest win they’d ever had, together, as a team- it's a little Bonnie and Clyde-ish but it was a ritual.

Monty slid his laptop onto the plastic table and then pressed his earpiece into his head, "Raven, is he there yet?" but there's no response. "Reyes." he repeats, but she still doesn't say anything.

He looked up at Clarke, with a face that asked what he was supposed to do and she blinks, suddenly turning from worried to _in charge._ , "Get me all security cams in a one mile radius from the tunnel exit point and-" she cut herself off with a cry when a loud shriek came across the comm in her ear. she yanked it out, throwing it to the floor- vaguely registering that Monty, Octavia and Lincoln all did the same. "What the  _fuck_ was that?" she cried.

"Comm are down- cops must have picked up on them." Monty assured, typing away on his computer- still wearing that life jacket.

"Okay, so now I  _really_ need those cameras." she repeated and he nodded absentmindedly.

she watched the computer screen where different camera feeds kept flashing up every time she blinked and Monty didn't seem phased by any of this. “I’ve got something.” he announced suddenly, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

she frowned because she didn't find  _anything_ on that screen, "What?"

he pulled up a feed where a dark figure was staggering out of an alleyway- his hand clutching his gut. he rested against the wall for support and yanked the mask of his face and her heart stopped- it's definitely him.“He’s been shot (15)” Monty said carefully, swallowing.

Clarke stared at the screen like she was frozen in time- he's been shot. "fuck."she breathed, running her fingers through her hair. She stood with her fingers tangled in the blond on her head, staring out into the ocean before launching an almighty kick against the bag of millions of dollars like it was a punching bag, " _fuck."_

“Clarke” Octavia warned, coming over to her.

She turned around, waving her hand, her jaw tense, “I’m fine.” She swallowed, wrinkling her nose, “I’m fine. (16)” She repeated. 

Monty tapped at his key board; Clarke would have laughed at the life jacket if she weren’t so panicked. “Okay, I've got him on a traffic cam heading east towards the boat- that was thirty minutes ago."

Octavia licked her lips, "They should be here soon." She hesitated making a dig at Clarke, after all, Clarke had been wrong. but she bit her tongue at the fear in the blond's eyes. "He'll be okay." the brunette said out loud, to no one in particular.

Clarke nodded, but didn't say anything.

it feels like a lifetime before they heard the thrum of an engine and saw arms waving and the blond felt like she could finally breathe. Raven is steering and the boat began to slow as they approached. Clarke couldn't wait any longer, "Is he okay? What happened?" she demanded, reaching for the railing on the other boat as soon as it was close enough.

"Murphy shot him." Jasper said, wrapping a rope between the boat rails to keep them conjoined.

Clarke jumped over the railing onto the other boat, nearly falling down when a wave hit and sprinted over to Bellamy. Jasper followed, claiming he needed to tinker with something below deck and Reyes eyed him  _'you get us killed and i'm haunting your ass'_ she threatened. Bellamy was lying on the coach with a shirt pressed into his abdomen and a sweat all over his face. "Oh my god." she breathed, kneeling down beside him, " _fuck."_

he tittered a laugh, "I'm okay princess, it was a through and through."

she sighed into a relieved smile and pressed her forehead into his arm, "You fucking scared me." she shook her head.

"Can i see the diamond!" Octavia cried and Raven nodded.

"You're going to  _die."_ she warned excitedly, reaching into her pocket.

"Raven's gonna stitch me up and..." he trailed off, noticing the worry that still had yet to leave her body. he reached out and carefully pushed the hair away from her eyes with his thumb. he took a breath, swallowing “Clarke I- (17)” he started.

There was a loud crash bellow deck and scrambling footsteps until Jasper burst through the door with wide eyes of fear, " _Run, now run."_ and with that, he sprinted towards the railing and hurled himself into the ocean below.

Octavia did not need to be told twice and copied while Monty grabbed onto the duffel bag and followed. "We gotta move." Clarke cried as Lincoln jumped over board as well. "Get up." she ordered, dragging Bellamy to his feed- he limped but Clarke didn't stop. "Raven give me a hand." she ordered as the Brunette wrapped his arm around her shoulders. but they didn't make it over board before the entire boat blew up beneath their feet- like they were falling into a black hole- and catapulted them into the air. She remembered screaming and yelling and Bellamy reaching for her hand but then she remembered nothing.

 

 _(15._ _If you hadn’t realised. He get’s fucking shot a lot)_

 _(16._ _She was so not fine)_

 _(17._ _He never did finish that sentence)_

 

* * *

 

“ _It’s been fourteen hours since the heist took place at la Banque Nationale in St Tropez in the southern region of France. Authorities have discovered two boats marooned off the coast of Sassari in Sardegna. The boats were found, on fire, and so was a substantial amount of blood. It is believed that these two boats were the getaway vehicles for our robbers and that a faulty gas pipe exploded, possibly propelling them from the boats._

_Only five of the seven bodies have been recovered and it is believed that the robbers have all drowned. More information to come.”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: high levels of sass and explosions

**ST TROPEZ POLICE STATION - NOW**

 

“Here are your belongings.” The woman behind the glass explained, passing through a tray.

Murphy sighed as he started to pick up his things, pushing his phone into his pocket and sliding his watch on. He’d been interviewed for hours, and hours, and hours. He hadn’t slept in over 20 of them and he was fucking _pissed._ French police are vicious. Bellamy had locked him in a _safe_ for Christ’s sake!

Murphy ignored the rage simmering beneath the surface as he picked up his wallet. He frowned as he noticed a piece of paper sticking out from it. He opened his wallet and pulled out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and grit his teeth. It was a sheet of paper with the title _Brazil._ He flipped it over to see Bellamy’s handwriting spelling; _See you around, Rat._

He scoffed and shook his head, balling it in his hand and throwing it into a nearby bin. Kane came out of the interview room, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry kid, we’ve got an alert out on their fake passports.” he reassured.

Murphy shook his head, “They were three steps ahead the whole time. I wouldn’t see something unless they wanted me to. The passports are useless.” he glanced at the _Brazil_ piece of paper in the bin and rolled his eyes again.

 

* * *

 

_“It’s been twenty four hours since the heist took place and the authorities have discovered all seven bodies floating off the west coast of Corsica. It is believed that these are the bodies of the robbers. Due to the long period of time spent underwater and the severe burns sustained by the robbers’, the authorities won’t be able to identify our assailants with conventional means. They will need to turn to dental records. Stick with us for more information.”_

 

* * *

 

 

**MEXICO CITY- MEXICAN PRISON - 1 YEAR AGO.**

 

The door above Bellamy buzzed and a guard pushed him through. He shuffled awkwardly in his orange jumpsuit and his shackled ankles, the handcuffs chaffed at his wrists as he was led him down the dingy corridor towards the visitor’s room. he was brought to a halt outside a blue door and then again, shoved inside- rather roughly. There was a table and two chairs and a light that flickered on and off and the guard pointed, “Sit. Your lawyer’s on the way.”

_Lawyer?_

Bellamy frowned but sat in the seat facing the mirror, waiting patiently, and faultlessly aware that there was someone behind the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples with his thumbs.

He was imprisoned.

In _Mexico._

And his rescuer wasn’t picking up her phone.

The door opened and as a reflex, he turned to look. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something but Clarke shook her head, effectively shushing him. She turned to the mirror and tilted her head, and Bellamy heard a click as the camera went off and then the mirror was suddenly two ways and Bellamy could see into the other side. He and Clarke watched as the guard filed out, shutting the door behind him.

She turned back to him, “It’s safe to talk now.”

“ _You’re late.”_ He snapped harshly as Clarke slid into the seat opposite him.

She smiled at him, leaning forward in her chair with her head in her hands and her elbows on the table. “Sorry _mate_ , you know what the Mexican borders’ like.” She replied casually.

“It’s been _three_ days” he shot back.

she cocked her head, “Why did you call me?”

He huffed, “Your number’s the only one I know by heart. (18)” He looked up at her and immediately sat up straighter, “And why do you care? You let me rot here for _three_ days.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Yeah well, guess where I was. _Turkey._ Turns out you never pulled off that job, care to explain why you’d lie, to me?” she asked and he stared at her.

( _She knows why)_

He’s sure she knew why. He’s sure she knew that he’d run out of the job to make sure she was okay, He’s sure she had some distinct idea that he had feelings for her than ran deeper than friendship and partnership. But today was not the day to have that conversation. “ _Seriously?_ You want to do this _now_?” he insisted and she shrugged. Bellamy groaned, “I don’t have time for this. Have you _seen_ me? Some of the bigger guys have been eyeing me up- you gotta get me out of here.” He demanded.

Clarke waved her hand in a move of dismissal, blowing her hair away from her face, “Already on it.”

his eyes widened again, “You’ve got a plan?” he asked.

She nodded with a wild sparkle in her eyes, “Don't I always."

He smiled, “I just didn’t think you’d show up.”

She frowned, “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked curiously.

Bellamy shrugged and the shackles jingled along, “Didn’t think I mattered that much to you. (19)” he replied with an easy grin on his face.

Her face softened. “You’re a friend. I’m not about to let one of the few people I trust, rot in a Mexican prison of all places. Why are you _always_ the one who gets locked up?” she asked and he laughed.

“Because sometimes I like to be a bit of a martyr.” He shrugged, “It makes me feel all tingly inside”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “By letting yourself get caught for someone else?” He nodded and she sighed. She shook her head, standing up, “One of these days, you’re going to get stuck somewhere where I can’t get you. (20)” she warned, reaching into her pockets for a key.

“Thank God, today is not that day.” He replied as she unshackled his wrists. He let the chains drop onto the table and sighed, rubbing his wrists. “That’s some jewellery I could do without.” He muttered.

She unshackled his ankles and threw the cuffs across the room. She pointed to the door she’d come through, “Stand over here” she ordered. He followed suit and Clarke turned the table around. She dropped it onto its side so that it was some kind of shield and she brought it over to where he stood.

“You gonna blow us out of here?” he asked as they both dropped down behind it.

She pressed the ear bud into her ear, “Jasper. Blow the window.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened in disbelief, “Jasper? You got _jasper_?” he paused as she looked back at him with a frown as if to say _and?_ Bellamy shook his head, ducking lower behind the table.

His arms brushed hers and she ignored the hitch in her breath. He dragged her down with him and her head pressed into the bottom of the table. Bellamy grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to him so that his arm was around her shoulders. She could smell him, he’d had a shower and his skin was soft. Clarke adjusted her head so that she could look up at him and her heart stuttered and died in her chest and  _oh my god_ this is not happening.

“What’s wrong with jasper?” she breathed carefully and her breath tickled his neck.

Bellamy pulled her closer, burying her face into the side his jacket while she held onto the table, “Jasper’s insane (21). He won’t just blow the window he’ll blow the whole fucking-”

The room shook as a loud and all mighty _crack_ erupted and Bellamy wrapped his arms around Clarke. She held her breath as her body was hit with a wave of shock and the room crumbled to pieces. She could smell dust and her vision was cloudy with ash as she squinted against the sudden influx of light. Her ears were ringing and she was paralyzed. Never. _Ever._ Have any window bombs made _that_ sound. Her breath was heavy as she pushed Bellamy’s arms off of her. She struggled to her feet, falling back against the door behind her. They had two minutes at most before the guards came looking. Money only bought _so_ much time.

She coughed and held out her hand for Bellamy. He accepted, hauling himself to his feet. She gagged a little, rubbing her jeans.

“Fuck.” he breathed.

She frowned and followed his eye line before she stood up straight, blinking. _“Shit.”_ She hissed.

The wall that once existed was demolished to smithereens. The gaping hole before her took up what used to be part of the building and was now an open space of fresh air. She could see the roaming ocean from where she stood- good thing she's not afraid of heights. Conveniently this prison was famous. People had tried to escape before, but all of them perished in the fall over the cliff that led to the murky dark and dangerous seas.

 _“Oops?”_ A voice offered down her ear.

She pressed the earpiece into her head, "Oops?" she enunciated, " _Oops?"_ She yelled, “You were only meant to blow the Goddamn _window,_ what is _wrong_ with you? _”_ she cried.

Jasper sighed, _“I may have miscalculated the_ _thickness of the wall._ (22) _”_

 _“May?”_   She screamed at the top of her voice. “There is a hole the size of _Texas_! What part of subtle did you not get?”

_“I'm controlling this thing from the middle of nowhere, give me some credit.”_

Clarke sighed loudly, “Would you hurry up and finish your job?” she demanded and she could practically picture him mouthing her off.

Bellamy nudged her and she turned to look at him, “What happens now?” he asked, slightly sarcastically. “We jump?” he mocked.

She glared at him, “Next time, I’m gonna leave you here to rot. Do you have any idea how long it took me to plan this?” she hissed, pointing to the current gaping hole in the wall,

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I do. You know why? Because I’ve been _stuck here_ while you planned your bullshit idea.”

Clarke lifted up her shirt until it stopped just before her bra. She turned around to reveal a long rope strapped to her back. “Take it off.” She ordered.

He ripped the masking tape from her back and she winced slightly as it peeled. “What’s this for?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as she turned around and snatched it out of his hands.

“ _My plan_ , remember?” she smirked, unravelling the rope.

She stepped forward until she was pressed up against him. His heart died in his throat as her arms reached around his waist to wrap the cable. She tied it around her waist as well and made sure the final knot was sturdy. Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and Clarke ignored the tingling sensation in her fingers as placed her arms on his back to hold him in place. She glanced over the edge of the demolished prison and watched the waves crash mercilessly into the sharp jagged rocks bellow.

“This better work.” She muttered as footsteps came pounding down the corridor, she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled nervously at him, “Do you trust me? (23)”

He cocked his head, “About as much as you do, me”

She grinned wildly, yanking the rope so that their bodies were pushed even closer. Their faces were inches away and Bellamy craved the touch of her skin. But suddenly Clarke jolted them and they were falling into a dark abyss of probable death and mutilation.

_(This was the part of the plan that relied on luck.)_

They resurfaced an hour later, gasping for air as their oxygen tanks started to run out. Clarke gasped and spluttered out water while Bellamy tried to suck is as much air as possible. She grimaced and wiped the water out of her eyes, only succeeding in making it worse. She glanced around, wincing against the sun, “Where the fuck is he?” she muttered.

Bellamy looked straight and pointed to the distant beach and _land._ “Where are _we_?”

“Not far from Pinar Del Rio” she replied, turning around to search behind her.

“Cuba?” he gaped, “We swam, to _Cuba?”_

She nodded, tapping the ear bud in her ear to see if it would work. “It’s the only nearby place where you’re not wanted” she explained. Bellamy stared at her before bringing his hand back, and splashing water in her direction as hard as he could. Clarke coughed and glared at him, “What the _hell?”_

He waved his arms, _“That_ was the big plan that took you _three_ days? I nearly got deported to the US. Do you have any idea how many Interpol agents want my head on a platter?” he cried dramatically.

_(it’s a lot, if you’re wondering.)_

She rolled her eyes as she spotted a boat coming in their direction, “I told you. I got stuck in customs. I had other things to do.”

He cocked his head mockingly, “Oh yeah like what?”

Clarke glared at him, “Were you aware that your sister got _married?_ because y _ou_ didn’t show up.”

Bellamy’s mouth snapped shut and the muscles in his jaw jumped like he was trying to bite his tongue (he nearly drew blood.) He turned away from her and she frowned at his reaction and opened her mouth to say something; only to be stopped by the wiring motor of a boat approaching them. Jasper slowed down a few meters away and she turned to look, a hand over her eyes to block the blinding sun. Jasper grinned, looking down at them, and smiled, “Have a nice swim?” he asked, and this time both of them splashed him.

the small bomb tech helped them onto the boat, both of them dragging buckets of water along with them. He pulled the tanks off their backs, “Did you find these easily?” he asked.

Clarke nodded, “At least you did one thing right.” She smirked and he shook his head, placing them on the boat floor while Clarke squeezed the water from her hair.

He started the boat and the blond noticed Bellamy standing at the stern, a hand on the railing with his back to the both of them, watching the retreating sea with almost wistful melancholy. She sat carefully on the small leather seat of the boat, crossing a leg over the other and watching the ocean waves that continued in the wake of their escape. He made no move to acknowledge her and she grew quickly impatient, clicking her tongue and staring at him in what seems like disappointment, "Why didn't you go?" she asked, because she remembered the look on Octavia's face when she couldn't find her brother at her  _own_ wedding.

Bellamy pursed his lips, still not looking at the blond, “How did know we’d survive that fall?” he said loudly above the motor.

she shrugged, “I didn’t.”

Bellamy knew full well that was going to be the answer because Clarke's total disregard for her own life had come to light on multiple occasions- like in the fucking Philippines. he crossed his arms, “So my life balanced on the chance that we wouldn’t impale ourselves on the rocks?”

the blond smirked like it was funny or something and shrugged, “Essentially.”

He turned to glare at her; the anger behind his eyes was enough to wipe the smile off Clarke’s face. She flinched back a little bit when he pointed at her with a finger, “One of these days." he started almost threateningly, "Your plan’s not going to work and you’re going to end up dead.” There was a flash of hurt in his eyes and Clarke tilted her head.

She smiled softly, “You’re not stupid enough to believe that.” 

“You’re luck’s going to run out.” He replied, turning his head to look back at the sea because he couldn't bare to argue with someone who was as stubborn as she was, "Just like your father."

“Why didn’t you go to your sister’s wedding?” She asked again, crossing her arms to hide the fact that her hands had started shaking.

Bellamy shrugged, puffing his cheeks and blowing a short raspberry, “That’s really none of your business." he said passingly, "We’re not friends.” He added before pursing his lips and looking her in the eyes. He let the silence sit for a moment, watching the confusion festering her eyes, “I don’t trust you, I don’t even _know_ you. Your dad was my mentor, that’s the _only_ reason I hang onto you." if he could describe the look in her eyes he might have resembled it to something of heartbreak. "You’re some runaway who hijacked my operation in Croatia and screwed up my con.” He looked at her with no discernible emotion in his eyes and her nostrils flared, “You’re nothing to me (24). Once I’m out of here, I’ll _never_ have to see you again.”

Clarke’s blood ran cold and she levelled him with a sharp stare and a shaky breath. “I know you’re pissed off right now, I know you don’t mean any of what you’re saying and I _know_ you’re taking your anger out on me. But I’m going to leave before I do something stupid, like shoot you.” _or kiss you._ Her voice was low and grave and Bellamy’s heart squeezed at the hurt look behind her eyes.

he shook his head, ”I’m nothing to you." he said softly, "You wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t owe me. (25)” He muttered, the vulnerability creeping into his voice- something he'd always tried to hide.

she swallows, trying not to yell-  _scream_ at the top of her voice that he mattered and that she  _cared._ “Don’t you _dare_ say that.” She warned, trying to keep her voice steady but it wavered into a slight crack. she coughed, shaking her head again, “I would have come for you even I _you_ owed _me_ a _million_ favours.” She looked so hurt, so attacked that he could ever think that about her.

neither of them noticed the boat docking onto a small wooden platform. nor did they notice jasper climb out, tie the rope around a boulder, shove his hands in his pockets and walk off without a goodbye. (They clearly didn't need to be interrupted.) neither of them knew what to say either. they stood in silence with the air around them swirling with words they never said and always wanted to. their chests we're heaving, their eyes were wide and wild and Clarke blinked. once. twice.

 

"We're here." she says, cutting through the stillness.

Bellamy glanced at the land they'd touched foot on, crystal clear beaches and small Cuban houses littered on the coastline and he blinked too, “Right.” He muttered, clambering off the boat. the water on him dripped onto the wooden port and stained it darker as he shed the orange jumpsuit. Clarke reached into the cupboard under the steering wheel and produced a small backpack.

"Catch" she said, throwing it to him until it hit him in the chest and his reflex was to grab it with his hand.

"What's this?" he asked, unzipping it quickly and rummaging through it.

she shrugged, "Just the basics, passport, cash a burner." she hesitates, "Octavia's number's in it. I know she'd like to hear from you."

He looked up at her, frowning slightly at her remaining presence on the boat and not the harbour, “Aren’t you coming?” he asked, cocking his head with a confused frown.

She shook her head, sliding a pair of round sunglasses over her eyes that she procured from literally nowhere, “Nah.” She sighed, crossing her arms, “I’m wanted in Cuba.” She smirked.

Bellamy chuckled, nodding, “Right. 09, I forgot.” He sighed and glanced around, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Next time?” he asked curiously and Clarke sighed, looking out at the paradise she'd miss out on.

“I’ll call you if I ever need you. (26)” she assured, crossing her arms and smiling softly.

He nodded in agreement, looking down at the documents and bundles of cash and then back up at her “You know we’re kind of like Bonnie and Clyde (27)” he suggested, holding his hand up to block the oncoming sun, and Clarke shook her head with a slight grin.

“This isn't a fucking movie.” She chuckled, moving to untie the boat rope.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

Clarke shrugged, pausing midway through unwrapping the rope to look up at him, “Well I think I’m wanted in Mexico, now” she smiled and then sighed, “I don’t know, maybe the Cayman Islands? I don’t think I’m wanted there. (28)” She shrugged again, “Plus, I gotta get to get back to Turkey.” She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t ever leave a con to come and save me _ever_ again.” She added, unimpressed.

He smirked, “You did the exact same thing.” He stated.

She waved him off, “Yeah, but that’s different.” she said as she dragged the rope back onto the boat, wandering back to the steering wheel.

The boat started to drift away and her hair flapped in the wind as Bellamy slung the backpack over his shoulder with a soft smile on his face and a hand in his pocket. "Hey." he called after her and she turned around as she boat continues to float further away. “Don’t get dead.” He suggested.

Clarke smiled, twisting the key in the ignition until the engine roared to life, “Don’t get shot.” and then she looked serious, "And call your sister."

 _(18._ _His is the only one she knows off by heart too)_

 _(19._ _Her heart broke a little bit when he said that)_

 _(20._ _He knows. He just doesn’t like to think about it)_

 _(21._ _It’s true. Jasper once blew up an ice cream factory because he wanted it to rain chocolate- it didn’t if you’re wondering, he got a vanilla factory instead)_

_(22.    N_ _o he didn’t. He just wanted things to go boom as big and as loud as they could)_

_(23._ _Would he call someone he didn’t?)_

 _(24._ _She’s not going to lie, that stung a little)_

 _(25._ _Her heart cracked a little bit)_

 _(26._ _That doesn’t count. She always needs him)_

 _(27._ _No we’re not *rolls eyes*)_

 _(28._ _Turns out, she is!)_

 

* * *

 

 

**PRIVATE RUNWAY- OUTSKIRTS OF ROME – NOW.**

 

“ _Enough_ with the pyrotechnics” Raven snapped, looking down at her burnt leg, “You were supposed to blow it up _after_ we’d jumped you _moron.”_

Jasper blundered, “It wasn’t my fault, one of the engine pipes exploded.” Clarke was tending to Raven’s burn with a wet rag, cooling it down. Raven knew she needed to go to some kind of hospital, but it’s fine, she knew a guy.

“You’re lucky the bodies were on that boat to make it look even more realistic.” Monty tutted, wiping the blood from his head from where he’d crashed into the railing.

“ _Realistic_ isn’t my concern.” Octavia interrupted, “What I’m worried about is that Bellamy wakes up, because I swear to god, if he doesn’t-” she took a step towards Jasper who swallowed nervously, “I will rip you to shreds”

Lincoln stepped between both of them, pushing them apart, “There will be no _ripping_ each other to shreds. Not today.” He warned.

All of them had gotten out with a few minor burns. Raven’s leg, Jasper’s hip and Lincoln’s shoulder. Clarke had simply crashed into the floor and had cuts on her lips and face. Octavia was thrown off the boat and had landed roughly on a nearby rock. She’d broken her arm and had bruises that covered her entire body.

Bellamy had burnt the clothes off his back and managed only to sustain a few minor burns. But he’d still hid his head at some point and been knocked out cold ever since. He groaned from where he lay, his head propped up on the duffel bag.

They were standing in the centre of a plan yard warehouse, each standing in front of a small four seater plane. Each had a different destination (except for Jasper and Monty of course –they’re a team. And Octavia would never leave without Lincoln.)

“I’m sorry, about what I said.” Octavia murmured, coming next to Clarke and handing her a bowl of water to dip the cool rag in. “I see it now. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “He’s my friend. I wouldn’t hurt any of you.”

Octavia pushed her tongue against her teeth into a slight smirk, “Friend. _Right._ (29) _”_

One side of the warehouse had been pulled away to make space for the planes when they flew away. Bellamy groaned again, rolling his head and Clarke stood to attention. She turned back to Raven who grunted, “Go” she stated.

Octavia smiled and watched as Clarke sprinted and dropped down on the ground next to him. He opened his eyes and then hissed shutting them equally as fast.

“You okay?” she asked carefully.

He groaned, shaking his head, “I feel like someone hammered my head into a wall.” He muttered, blinking quickly.

Clarke laughed, “That’s kind of what happened, you’re lucky Raven’s stitches didn’t rip either.”

He turned to look up at her hovering over him. Hs eyes crinkled as he smiled, _so_ sincerely that Clarke’s heart stopped. “ _Hi.”_ He breathed.

She laughed dropping her head against his chest. She smiled, tears welling in her eyes as she looked back at him, “ _Hey.”_ She whispered.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and winced at the pain. Clarke had a hand on his back as if to make sure she’d catch him if he fell down. He held a hand to his head and he glanced around, wide eyed. Octavia cam over with a small smile, “Hey big brother.” She smiled.

He frowned, “What happened to you?”

Octavia waved him off, “I’m fine.”

He looked around at the cuts, burns and bruises, the planes, the open runway and he groaned, “ _Shit.”_ He muttered, looking to Clarke, “Are we dead?” he asked

Clarke nodded, reaching behind the cash bag for a bottle of water, “Drowned, I think.” She handed the bottle to him, “You’ll have to ask Monty, he faked the dental records. It was all very John Stonehouse. (30)” She shrugged.

Bellamy chuckled, taking a sip of water. “Where are we?”

 _“Why, Roma my good sir!”_ Jasper called in a stereotypical Italian accent, grinning over at him.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and clambered to his feet. He swayed slightly, falling back, but Clarke and Octavia caught him. He pushed them off, “I’m fine.” He huffed. Clarke scoffed.

“Stubborn idiot” she muttered as she picked up the cash bag and wondered over to where Lincoln and the other were chatting.

She dropped it onto the floor as Bellamy and Octavia made their way over. Clarke bent down and unzipped it as a circle started to form around her. “I’ve split it all into bags, you can count them if you want but by now you should know that I don’t screw over friends.” She smiled up at them.

They all nodded back and Clarke pulled out big black fabric pouches with an elegant bow at the top where she’d tied them shut. She pulled one out and handed it to jasper next to her who passed it around. She handed them all out and then the leftover cash that wasn’t in the pouch but in the bag, was hers. She zipped up at the bag and looked up at everyone.

She smiled carefully, “The money from the diamond has been transferred into your bank accounts. We did good.” She added. “We stopped an asshole funding a war with a blood diamond that was mined in concentration camps. We probably saved a whole nation.” She explained.

Octavia rolled her eyes, “Well, aren’t you miss optimistic?”

Monty nodded, “We’re like the wonder team.”

Jasper clapped his hands, “Like the avengers! (31)”

“ _I’m iron man!”_ Monty cried, throwing his arms up and Clarke laughed when Bellamy shook his head.

“I’m iron man. You can be Thor.” Bellamy stated, pushing Monty slightly.

“I’m Thor. He can be hulk.” Lincoln interrupted.

Raven shook her head, “This is the most stupid conversation I’ve ever been involved in. _Obviously,_ I’m iron man.”

Jasper shook his head, “No-”

“ _Okay”_ Octavia clapped her hands, “We’re gonna go before facial rec kicks in and we have Italian Feds on our Ass.” She hugged Bellamy, linking her fingers with Lincoln’s. She waved to the others and Lincoln saluted them, “We’ll see you soon” she added as they turned around and made their way to the plane.

Bellamy turned back to Clarke who slung the bag over her shoulder. “You know. We make a good team.” Raven commented.

Clarke shrugged, “I don’t know, I don’t really enjoy getting blown up whenever we’re together. (32)”

Raven shook her head, “That was one time, and I _told_ you to run.” She shook her head, biting off the grin.

Clarke smiled, stepping forward and pulling Raven in for a hug. “I’ll see you around.”

Raven stepped back, swinging the pouch over her shoulder, “You have my number.” And with that, she turned on her heels and wondered over to her plane.

“Do you think we could buy an island?” Monty asked, staring at the pouch, “We could be like those celebrities who have their own.” He added, nudging Jasper and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

Jasper shook his head, “No way, I’m going to buy a house. Something neatly inland with absolutely _no_ sea surrounding it.” He shivered, as though the _sea_ was a cruse word that made him want to shrivel up and die.

Clarke held out both fists, “We’ll see each other again.”

They both fist bumped hers at the same time and then turned around, walking towards their plane, arguing as to who would buy what and how buying as island was the best thing to do. Clarke and Bellamy stood side by side, watching as the three planes slowly pulled out of the ware house and onto the runway.

They both stood, not daring to look at the other. “Her dad.” Bellamy stated.

Clarke turned to look at him, both eyebrows raised, “What?”

Bellamy looked at a space behind her shoulder and pointed to Octavia’s moving plane, “I missed her wedding because I was in Mexico, looking for her dad. (33)” Clarke’s eyes softened as he started to twist a strand of her hair, “I figured if she was going to get married, she might as well do it properly.”

Clarke placed a hand under his chin, lifting his head so that his eyes made contact with hers, “He didn’t want to see her?” she asked. Bellamy’s eyes said all they needed to and Clarke sighed, “Bell...” she muttered, placing her hands on his shoulders.

The light fell over Bellamy’s eyes and Clarke doesn’t remember what came over her and she grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

His hand fisted in her hair, pulling at the strands and her mouth widened. His other hand balled the wet fabric of her shirt. Clarke threw her arms around his neck. It was a kiss. A simple kiss. A kiss like any other kiss.

But when Clarke’s head started to spin and her palms began to sweat, she realised this wasn’t a kiss like no other. Her heart beat was in her ears and she knew that this was a bad idea. But... he tasted like rust and stardust and when rust and stardust tasted like rainbows and made her feel like she was falling, she really didn’t care.

Her fingers tangled in his soft brown curls and his nails scratched at her skin, trying to keep her rooted before him. She groaned slightly as he pulled away with a smug smile on his face, his forehead pressed against hers. Clarke sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head, and she ignored the tingling on her lips.

 “You know, I’m going to miss you.” he whispered, the tips of his fingers carefully stroking her cheek.

Clarke choked on a laugh, “I’m going to miss you too.” She closed her eyes. Taking in, smelling, feeling the moment. The rare calm of the situation. She looked up at him and spotted the tears threatening to spill. She reached up, wiping the corners of his eyes. “Chin up. We just made 50 million each.”

Bellamy tilted his head, “I don't care about the 50 mill. (34)” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek, “When will I see you again?” he asked quietly.

Clarke sighed, “Give it four months? At least. Things need to die down.” she added.

Bellamy nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead, “Four months. I’ll be there.”

“Be where?” she mused.

Bellamy stepped away from her with the pouch in his hands. He shrugged with a smug smile on his face, “I have an idea. (35)” He smiled, turning around.

It came to her occurrence that, Bellamy had never walked away from her. Every time; Australia, Mexico, she had been the one to walk away. And just now did she understand the hurt he went through every time she turned around.

“Don’t get shot” she called.

He laughed, from halfway up the stairs and turned around, “Little late for that.” He joked. Clarke smiled and shook her head, turning around towards her own plane. Bellamy stopped at the door, waiting and then turned around, “Don’t get dead.” He yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to call over the sound of Octavia’s plane taking off.

She turned around, walking backwards with her arms raised, “Already am” Bellamy shook his head and walked into his plane. Clarke crossed her arms and watched the door shut. She saw him through the window, sit down and close his eyes.

She shook her head, _four months._

 _(29._ _What does that even mean?)_

 _(30._ _He’s got his own Wikipedia page- no, like, seriously)_

 _(31._ _Raven was thinking more; suicide squad)_

 _(32._ _She so does)_

 _(33._ _She nods along, but she already knew)_

 _(34._ _Of course it’s a welcome extra)_

 _(35._ _She’s a sentimental person- it’s obvious really)_

 

* * *

 

 

_“It has been confirmed. The bodies are those of our robbers. No money was recovered apart from nearly US$ 200,000 in cash floating around in that area. Our robbers’ identities have remained secret and will continue to remain secret as demanded by Interpol due to the possible retaliation of Mr Jaha on their remaining, living families.”_

 

* * *

 

**CROATIA – SIX MONTHS LATER.**

 

Clarke grumbled into her cushion, mumbling about wanting more sleep. She rolled onto her back, dressed only in her underwear and she blinked against the sun streaming through her window. She sighed, holding her hand over her eyes.

She’d bought a villa at the top of hill, a spacious house that was situated on the edge of a cliff (She knew Bellamy would like that) with a pool and enough room to fit her entire team (You know, if the time ever called for it.)

She let her eyes open groggily and sniffed. It smelt like Bacon and eggs. She smiled, burying her face into her cushion. It smelt good. She could hear the distant humming of the radio and smiled at the soft melody that flooded her halls.

_Her halls._

_Shit._ She sat up immediately, her hand reaching behind the head board for her gun. What kind of person breaks in, and makes _breakfast?_ Clarke kicked the sheets off, slowly stepping out of her bed. She clocked it and held it up as she nudged the door open with her toe.

She stepped into the corridor, tip toeing lightly across the wood in the direction of her kitchen/ living room. The light was streaming through the sliding French doors. She walked silently into her living room and could finally see the entire kitchen.

The man whistled as his continued to cook. His shirt was thrown over a chair and he mumbled something as he turned around and poured the bacon onto the two plates. He looked up at her gun and froze. A grin made its way across his face and he continued to pour the bacon, “Morning princess.”

Clarke stared wide eyed, her heart stopped in her chest and she tightened her hand around the gun, “What...” she choked on her voice, “You’re dead. (36)” She croaked.

Bellamy shook his head, putting the pan down on the cooker. “Sorry to disappoint, but you’re not getting rid of me that easy.” He grinned simplistically.

Clarke gaped, her mouth open in defiance and she felt tears stinging her eyes, “ _You’re dead!_ (37) _”_ She yelled, waving the gun.

Bellamy shook his head, pushing his hands into his jean pockets, “We’re all dead, remember?” he joked.

Clarke looked like her heart had been ripped from her chest. She dropped the gun onto the floor and Bellamy stared at her worriedly. She pointed at him, taking a step back, “No, no, you’re _dead._ Murphy killed you- _Oh my-_ ” She swayed and Bellamy ran forward, catching her before she fell.

“I got you Princess, you’re oaky.” His arms were secured around her bare waist as he carried her to her sofa. She held her hand to her head, rubbing her eyes. She leaned back and stared at him with a worried look. She reached out slowly, her fingers brushing his cheek and then she flinched back.

She suddenly shoved him roughly off the couch, “ _You’re two_ godamn months _late!”_ She cried angrily.

He smiled up at her, “Sorry. I got shot, again.” He held out his hand and Clarke helped him stand up.

She glared at him, “Brazil. I heard.” She snapped and then took a deep breath. Bellamy reached for her shoulders but she pushed him off, stepping away. She took a deep breath, “How did you find me?” she asked, looking through the window while her leg bounced up and down.

Bellamy scoffed, throwing his arms wide, “Don’t tell me this is you _hiding?_ You wanted me to find you. I mean, _Croatia,_ really?” Clarke pursed her lips and shook her head.

“There’s only one US state were I’m not wanted, and, I mean, who goes to Utah voluntarily?” she mumbled as Bellamy pointed out of the window with raised eyebrows.

“A cliff. Now you’re just being cruel.” He grinned when she huffed, “Point is. You were easy to find.” He added.

Clarke shook her head, crossing her arms and looking at her feet. “I wanted Murphy to find me.” She explained quietly.

Bellamy frowned, standing next to her, “Why is that?” he whispered, his nose brushing the shell of her ear.

“I wanted to kill him.” She swallowed, “I thought you were dead.” Her voice cracked and Bellamy’s eyes softened, “When I didn’t hear anything I assumed he’d...” Her voice trailed off and she couldn’t bring herself to finish.

He stepped forward, taking her face in his hands and wiping the moisture under her eyes with his thumb, “I had to pretend to be dead. Murphy came after me and I needed to get off the grid. He knew I was looking for you and he assumed we were both in Brazil. I knew you were here. I sent him on a cold trail.”

Clarke frowned, taking his hand away from her cheek and holding it in hers, “You sacrificed yourself, for me?”

He smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears, “I’m not a Martyr princess (38). I just prefer you breathing. It was purely selfish.” He shrugged, his arms making their way around her waist, his arms brushing against her milky white skin.

She cocked her head, “How so?”

Bellamy shrugged as his fingers drew patterns on her back with the tip of his fingers, “I knew that I couldn’t live without you. So I made sure you lived so that I, as a consequence, lived as well.” He watched as Clarke’s eyes illuminated, “But hearing how you wanted to avenge my death kind of makes me feel all tingly inside.” She laughed, burying her face against his shoulder.

“You’re an idiot” she muttered against his skin.

He ran his fingers through her hair, “Maybe.”

She looked up at him, her fingers brushing over the new scar on his shoulder, “You got shot.” She stated.

He shrugged, “You got dead.” He replied.

Clarke placed an arm around his neck, “I guess we both broke our promises.” She whispered.

Bellamy cocked his head, a small smile on his lips as he tucked her hair behind her ears, “I’m trying to figure out a way to say that I’m in love with you but no words are coming to mind.” He whispered, rubbing her cheeks with his thumb.

She smiled, “I like the traditional way of saying them. You could always go traditional.” She suggested and Bellamy nodded.

“Alright then.” He looked up at her with a spark of excitement in his eyes, “Bonnie-” He started.

“We’re not Bonnie and Clyde.” She pointed out and he waved her off.

“Fine.” He smirked. He cleared his throat, “Clarke. I’m in love with you.”

Bellamy watched as a grin graced her face and her eyes crinkled. “That’s good because I’m in love with you.” And she’s never seen Bellamy smile so wide.

Then they kissed. It wasn’t like any of the other ones; this one was slow, sweet and warm. It was like a chocolate melting on her tongue and like she was falling through the air. She felt light and hot and her body was heating up.

His mouth tasted like honey dripping down her lips and like her was giving her everything. His soul, his life, he was breathing it into her. He wasn’t him, without her. That’s the way love worked. Bellamy pushed her back until they fell onto the couch. His hand sliding up her thigh until they jumped apart at a loud bang.

 “You’re security system is embarrassing. It’s like you never even knew me.” Monty shook his head as he walked in to the living room with a bag slung over his shoulder and a packet of crisps in the other.

Clarke and Bellamy stared at him, “What the hell are you doing here?” she cried, reaching for a duvet and covering herself with it.

“How did you get in? (39)” Bellamy exclaimed, waving his hand in direction of the corridor, his other hand resting on her lower back to hold her close and behind him.

The windows slid open and Jasper stepped in, staring at them like they were idiots, “What’s with these windows? I could blow them apart with my pinkie finger.” He grimaced, tapping them with his knuckles.

“Oh my god, what’s happening?” Clarke grumbled, rubbing her forehead.

Octavia walked in from the corridor, the one that led to the spare bedrooms flipping through the messages on her phone and chewing piece of gum, “You’re locks are a joke, I got through that back door in, like, 2 seconds flat.” She warned.

“For god’s sake” Bellamy muttered, rubbing his eyes like a tired grandfather.

“ _What is going on?”_ Clarke enunciated, glancing around at all of them.

“Oh, Bellamy’s alive.” Jasper commented, slapping him on the back, “That’s nice to know.” He added sarcastically.

Raven appeared with a burger in her hand, she smiled at them and Clarke rolled her eyes. “And you, how did you get in?” she asked.

Raven swallowed a mouthful, “Oh... I used the front door. It was open.” She explained awkwardly, pointing behind her.

Clarke turned to glare at Bellamy, “You didn’t shut the front _door?”_ She demanded, whacking him on the arm.

“ _Ow-_ I didn’t know we’d have people breaking in later on.” He hissed, rubbing the red spot on his skin.

Jasper rolled his eyes, stealing Raven’s burger, “I don’t like it when mommy and daddy fight. It makes me sad.” He mocked, swallowing a mouthful.

Bellamy and Clarke turned to glare at him, pointing their fingers in his direction, “ _No_ pyrotechnics!” they both yelled. Clarke stepped towards him, “I swear to God, if you blow anything up I’m going to kill you” she hissed menacingly.

Jasper simply grinned, throwing his arms around Bellamy and Clarke’s shoulder and pulling them in for a sideways hug, “Ah...” he sighed contently, closing his eyes, “Doesn’t it feel good to have the wonder team back together? (40)”

“Um-” Raven interrupted, holding up a finger as if to say _hold on,_ “You mean suicide squad?”

 _(36._ _He’s dead, he’s dead, he's dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. **He’s goddamn fucking dead** )_

 _(37._ _Except he’s not)_

 _(38._ _He is when it comes to her)_

 _(39._ _Did he really just ask that to a bunch of criminals?)_

 _(40._ _It really does)_

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think in your comments!


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